


bridge

by aeriamamaduck



Series: Saint Petersburg Days [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Communication, Drabble, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Love, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 06:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13475841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriamamaduck/pseuds/aeriamamaduck
Summary: A sleepless night.





	bridge

Victor kept still, already having hit his personal quota of turns after being awake for...

 

He peered at his phone. A little over two hours. Midnight then.

 

He was so lucky they had a day off, or else he would have been mentally berating himself much more than he already was. 

 

A night like this hadn't occurred in a long while, but Victor was used to them. Sometimes exhaustion didn't cut it, and it was just him and the comfort of Makkachin's snores. 

 

Yuuri slept peacefully and Victor was grateful for it. His face was pressed deep into his pillow, showing no signs of discomfort, and his breaths were deep and steady. He'd probably sleep until noon if possible. 

 

 _Lucky_ , Victor thought, smiling faintly as a little ache bloomed in his chest at the way Yuuri looked in their bed, so trusting and content.

 

He sat up carefully, trying not to disturb his sleeping husband as he got to his feet and quietly made his way out of the room. Yuuri deserved a rest, after all, and Victor wasn't accomplishing much there.

 

He ran a hand over his face, hearing Makkachin's padding beside him and looking down at his oldest friend's concerned face. 

 

"Can't sleep either, can you?" he asked softly, settling down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Makkachin clambered up with a huff, curling up into a ball next to Victor, who envied such ease.

 

He ran tired hands through his hair, breathing through the tension gathering in his body. Two weeks. Just two weeks and things were still up in the air for him. Life might have gone back to normal now that they were back home, but nothing felt normal. Everything had changed.

 

He stared at the phone in his hands, thinking about how the sight of a call from his mother once would have had him feeling more tense than he was now. Not that it felt completely welcome yet. Too many memories, ones Victor still had trouble letting go of.

 

Then came a confusing rush of guilt. 

 

She was trying. He was trying. Things weren't the same as before, and she wanted her son. She wanted...him.

 

That was still the most surprising thing.

 

Maybe he could call her. Sons called their mothers all the time. Yuuri called Hiroko at least twice a week. Why did this seem so unusual for Victor? 

 

He didn't bother thinking about it further before tapping the screen and putting the phone to his ear. 

 

There were a few rings before he heard her voice, tired and quiet. "Vitya?"

 

His heart gave a hard beat, and he asked quietly and guiltily, "Mama, did I wake you?"

 

"No. No, I couldn't sleep," she said, voice still worn, and Victor imagined her curled up in a bed too big for one person. "I don't sleep well anymore. What about you? I suppose you're too old for me to tell you to go to bed."

 

He smiled and let out a soft laugh. "You could, but I can't sleep either. Tomorrow is going to be absolute hell."

 

"Tell me about it...I've spent nights alone, but..."

 

They wouldn't be talking like this were it not for one awful thing that had happened two weeks ago, and it hurt to think about that. "It's different now that Papa's..." He trailed off. It was already obvious enough for her.

 

"Gone. You can say it, Vitya. You couldn't hurt me by saying that," she said, voice quietly firm. "I wasn't the only one who lost him."

 

She was right, Victor had lost him, along with so many other things. The chance to speak, to hear the things he needed to hear. Victor sighed and said, "I hate that you're there alone. Isn't there anyone who can..."

 

"My cousins won't leave Vladivostok for anything. No, I'm on my own here, it seems...But you don't want to hear this, do you?"

 

"I do! I really do," he insisted, trying to tempt her into saying more. For her sake and his own. To keep the quiet away from them both. "It's not like I'm doing anything important."

 

"Sleep is important."

 

"And impossible at the moment. I don't want to wake Yuuri with my tossing."

 

She was quiet for a long time, and he could imagine her sitting up in bed, or moving around the kitchen or his father's office. Then she said in that same worn voice, "You start taking it for granted. Having someone sleeping next to you, I mean. Just...having someone. I trusted Leonid to always come home to me, and he did. I'm an adult woman, almost fifty, and I was so...unprepared to face living by myself."

 

Victor couldn't help smiling bitterly. He'd been prepared for that since he was in his teens. "You were with him since you were very young. It was...almost a lifetime."

 

"Did I ever tell you how we met? We'd known each other our entire lives, actually."

 

"I think I remember Papa telling me a bit about that," he said, straightening a little and listening closely.

 

"For a long time he was just another boy in the schoolyard. Nicer than most, shy and quiet, and he was always getting picked on. The summer I was eighteen I came home from a performance, and he came to the door."

 

"Bearing flowers?"

 

"Yes, actually. Flowers and an unbelievable smile. Like you're the only other person in the world who matters. He was good. Always was. Better than...than other men ever were."

 

Victor closed his eyes at that, pained at the leftover hurt in his mother's voice. "God..."

 

"You don't have to worry about that. It was a long time ago," she said quickly but still quietly.

 

"It's just...I know what that's like," he admitted, just as quietly. Not wanting to delve further into it. Not now at least. 

 

His mother said nothing for several moments before asking gently, "Does it still hurt?"

 

"Sometimes," he answered, the word heavy in his chest. He sighed and urged her, "Keep going, tell me what else he did."

 

She did, thank goodness. "He was kind and warm. Now my mother warned me not to get involved with him, unless I wanted to be stuck with a harpy for a mother-in-law. But I didn't care. I wanted that boy more than I ever wanted anything else." More silence, and then his mother murmured, "I miss him. So much."

 

"...I miss him too," he admitted, wondering if the words sounded as true as they felt. They hadn't even  _known_ each other.

 

"Is that what's keeping you up?" she asked.

 

"A lot of things keep me up," he replied wryly. "But that's one of the things, yes. One good thing about non-stop skating is how exhausted you end up at the end of the day. I didn't have to lie awake as long and...think."

 

"That still doesn't sound restful."

 

"I got by."

 

"You're a young man, you shouldn't have to 'get by,' Vitya."

 

"I'm not young. I'm almost thirty."

 

"Oh, God, you're going to turn out like me," she said with a laugh. "Acting like turning thirty is the same as turning ninety."

 

"Well what else can I do when I'm already losing my hair?" He stopped talking at the sound of soft footsteps, and looked up in time to see Yuuri standing by the couch, moments before he sat down heavily on the side opposite Makkachin and rested his head on Victor's shoulder.

 

His eyes were barely open and his body was still sleep-heavy. "One second, Mama," he murmured before turning to Yuuri and asking, "I'm sorry,  _detka_ , did I wake you?"

 

"No, a dream woke me," Yuuri mumbled, sinking down further until his face was pressed against Victor's thigh and he lifted his legs onto the couch. He rested a hand on Victor's knee while nuzzling the skin of his thigh, murmuring, "I missed you."

 

Victor's chest filled with warmth at the words, and he let his hand wander into Yuuri's thick hair. He dragged his fingers through his a few times, listening to Yuuri's soft sighs before returning to his phone again. "I'm back."

 

"Is everything alright?" his mother asked.

 

"Yes, it's fine." 

 

"Well, surely you're exaggerating about your hair. It looks _fine_."

 

"That's what  _everyone_ says."

 

"Because it's true!" she insisted.

 

"Yes, Mama," he said mildly.

 

"Now you're just being agreeable to disagree."

 

"You caught me."


End file.
